


Five Nights at Markiplier's

by Magical_Devil_Alex



Series: Full Length Fics [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Markiplier Egos, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Five Nights at Freddy's, Gen, Hallucinations, Sassy Mike, he had no time for bs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Devil_Alex/pseuds/Magical_Devil_Alex
Summary: Mike has been through a lot in his life. He thought he was done with Freddy Fazbear's when he dealt with Baby and Afton, but no, here he is in a whole new place with killers out to slaughter him. But is that really what lies here? Or is there a clue to this whole thing he's missing entirely?





	1. Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> Heya everyone! Welcome to my new story! It won't be very long (seeing it is FIVE nights at Freddy's) but I'm excited for this! Hope you enjoy!

Pain. That’s all there was, hammering into his skull with a nail and  brutal force. Mike groaned, rubbing his head in attempts to sooth it somehow. From what he could tell, he was sitting in some sort of chair, something large and plush one at that. The longer it sat in his mind that he was sitting in said chair, the more dread that filled him.

Slowly so that he wouldn’t pass out from the pain, Mike opened his eyes, finding very little light in the room he was in. The only immediate light source he could find was a small lamp on the desk in front of him, illuminating a phone and what looked like a tablet, and in the corner of the dark room, a whirling fan. 

Well shit.

Mike groaned again, feeling the dread become stronger. He was in deep shit if he was where he thought he was, and this time, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive.

“I thought I was done with this fucked up franchise,” he mumbled to himself. The pain in his head was lessening, more bearable now, but the twisted knot in his stomach was stronger than ever. There was a flashing light on the phone, meaning it had an unheard message on it, and Mike had a bad history with unheard phone messages.

The man sighed, running his fingers through his slightly curly dark hair, moving his glasses to rub his eyes. So much for being moved to the day shift like he was promised. What was this, the 7th time now?

Was this even Fazbear’s? It didn’t look or feel like it, the chair too fancy, the tablet too modern, no pictures of badly drawn animals on the walls. The only way it actually  _ looked  _ like Fazbear’s was the phone, fan and tablet, but the feeling was the same. That haunted, out of place feel, the silent, eerie aura the room possessed. And now that he  _ really  _ looked around the room, he could see two doors on either side of him, both of them opened wide to reveal dark hallways behind, nothing to be seen in the deep shadows. On the sides of them were electric locks, a small light on either one that was glowing yellow.

Mike sighed to himself, knowing the only way out of this Hell was through. Survive the nights, follow the rules that the phone guy provides, pray to whatever God above that you don’t die. Those three things usually worked.

Once again,  _ if  _ this is what he thought it was. The probability of it being completely different was gradually becoming more and more of a possibility in Mike’s mind. There wasn’t even a clock from what he could see.

Finally gathering up his courage, Mike pressed the voicemail button on the phone, hearing it click to the recording.

**“You have one new, voice message,”** the phone chanted like a matra, before it beeped loudly once.

_ “Oh, hello? Is this stupid thing on? Dammit,”  _ the voice started, the sound of something shuffling in the background coming into the recording. Mike raised an eyebrow, a little confused by the voice. It didn’t sound like any of the phone guys he’s heard in the past, in fact he wasn’t even sure if this person was a guy at all. He couldn’t really tell to be honest, the voice deep enough to be considered masculine but smooth enough to be thought of as feminine. He guessed it didn’t really matter anyway. As long as this person could tell him how to survive, he couldn’t give two shits what the gender was.

_ “Oh, for fucks sake-”  _ the voice became jumpy, not all of it so clear. With another series of shuffling, the strong static in the recording finally smoothed out, and the person sighed in relief. 

_ “Okay, let’s try again. Hello there! You probably don’t know me, but I know you. I’m Alex, and I’m going to try and help you survive this shit show of a place. As you can more than likely tell, this place that you are in very much mirrors the place you used to work at, Freddy’s- well shit I guess I went too far already? Damn,”  _ the voice, Alex, sighed again, this time more in frustration with themself before continuing.  _ “This is going to sound weird, but I know a  _ **_lot_ ** _ about you, like, pretty much everything. I know your name is Mike and that you used to work at the the haunted pizzaria known as Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, and that you’ve been in pretty much all of the locations, just not by choice. I know you randomly appear at them with no way to understand why, and I know you thought that you’d be done and in peace by now. Believe me, I wish you were too.”  _ Alex sounded sad now, like they knew everything that had happened to Mike, everything from dying over and over again only to respawn to being dumped into new Hellholes every week. 

Who knew. Maybe they really did.

_ “Anyway, on to business. As you can tell, this place looks  _ **_nothing_ ** _ like your usual workplace, so allow me to explain: you are in what it known as Ego Inc, a giant facility where certain, uh, people work I guess. Most of them would be considered people, I think.” _

“Well then what the Hell are they?” Mike mumbled, already thoroughly confused.

_ “The best way I can describe them is that they’re figmints of one person, separate identities coming from one being. When you see them, you’ll notice that they pretty much all have the same face with little differences to set them apart. Most of them happen to have some sort or supernatural powers-” _

“God dammit-”

_ “-And that’s kinda what makes them a pain in the ass. I should probably tell you about them and whatnot,”  _ Alex coughed.  _ “First off, bring your tablet up, it’ll help a good bit.” _

Following the instructions, Mike grabbed the tablet that was on the desk and turning it on. The image that came up was of what he assumed was a living room, the picture much clearer and much less staticy than he’s ever had, and for that he was grateful. There was nothing worse than guesswork with things like this.

_ “Okay, so the first guy is named Darkiplier, or just Dark.You won’t ever really see him ‘cause he’s basically a fucking edgelord that sticks to the shadows all the time, but he wears a suit and has eyeliner under his eyes. Like I said: the edgiest edgelord.”  _ Mike couldn’t help but chuckle at that.  _ “Since you can’t see him like, at all, you have to use other ways of finding him. Around him at all times is this aura like thing, and it’s constantly ringing, so you can hear that. If you ever hear ringing or you see the walls starting to become monochrome, that’s Dark, and you need to shut the door  _ **_immediately._ ** _ He is not the animatronics. He will not stop and wait. If you don’t notice him right away, he will run in there and rip you to shreds,”  _ Alex paused to let it sink in. In the back of his mind, Mike was glad that this phone guy was actually helpful. It was much better than the other cryptic shit that the others always pulled.

_ “Alright, the next guy. This one’s a real sick fuck, just let me say that right now. He loves murder and blood and attention, but you can’t really give him any of those, except attention, and that’s in a nutshell what you have to do with him. _

_ “His name is Wilford Warfstache, and unlike Dark, you’ll see him  _ **_really,_ ** _ and I mean  _ **_really_ ** _ easily. He’s the dude with the pink mustache and wears suspenders. He also happens to like knives and guns so fun times.” _

“I’ll say.”

_ “So what you gotta do with good old Wilfy is give him one of the three things he loves most: attention. So periodically, you’ll have to find him on your tablet and look at him for a few seconds. Trust me when I say he  _ **_knows_ ** _ you’re there, and you might think it’s stupid, but don’t give him enough attention and he’ll teleport right into your room and snap your neck. Yes, he can do that.” _

“Well damn.”

_ “I know, seems kinda OP, right? But anyway, if for whatever reason he gets really close to you, like, right outside your door, close it and don’t let him in, but also talk to him. It sounds crazy, but Wilford is a sucker for charmers. Complement him, tell him that he’s really hot and all that bullshit, and he’ll eventually leave. Easy enough I guess.” _

“I haven’t flirted with anyone since high school.”

_ “The next motherfucker is actually rather easy to deal with. His name is Google, he wears mostly blue, and he’s an android whose secondary objective is to destroy mankind.” _

“What the Hell is the primary one?”

_ “The good thing about Google is that he’s  _ **_really_ ** _ slow and you can hear him coming from a mile away. He always follows the exact same pattern, never changes, and all you have to is close the door on him and he’ll be bamboozled. But… he comes with a catch. There’s always a catch, isn’t there? _

_ “You see, Google, being a robot and all, has some… special features added to him. He has one of the most advanced computers inside his skeleton, and he can pretty much hack into anything electrical. And you just happen to be surrounded by electronics. But he doesn’t work like you think he would; he doesn’t make your tablet stop working or anything, but he  _ **_does_ ** _ do another thing: track you. The fucking android can track your movements and find patterns within everything you do, what you check first, how often you use that tablet, things like that. And while he can’t really do anything with it, he somehow communicates this with the others (don’t ask me, I have no idea how) so I recommend this: change up your routine. I know you’re a person of patterns and whatnot, but unless you don’t want to survive the later nights, I suggest you change it up.” _

“Great, that’ll be fun.”

_ “And finally, the last fucker you’ll have to deal with tonight, Bing (his eyes glow orange by the way), another android bitch. This guy doesn’t actually attack you, in fact he pretty much avoids you at all times. However, he does something that makes him a  _ **_huge_ ** _ dick. Unlike Google, he really does mess with your technology, but he can’t do it himself. He’s not powerful enough like Google to do it directly, so he does it a different way. On your tablet, if you go to room 4-” _

Mike pressed on room four, the image of a generator coming into view. It was rather large in size, wires sticking out of it and sending out sparks. It didn’t look very safe to be honest.

_ “-And you should see a generator. Bing might not be the most powerful computer, but he sure as Hell knows them. He’ll go to the generator and tamper with it. Causing all of your power to go out temporality before it kicks back on. Without your power, you’re pretty much a sitting duck, especially in the later nights. But you can stop this, if you time it right. _

_ “To your left, you should see a big red button. This button will send a large electrical shock through the wires, and as you could see, the generator has a  _ **_lot_ ** _ of those sticking out. If you press this while Bing is messing with the wires, he’ll absorb all the shock, and  _ **_he’ll_ ** _ be the one that shuts down. But you have to time it right; do it too soon, like right now, and nothing will absorb the shock and it will all go to the generator, shutting it down. Same thing if you wait too long. _

_ “Okay. I think that’s everything, it should be at least. No one else is out until tomorrow. After I hang up you’ll see a clock in the corner of the tablet. It’s just like every time you’ve done this: survive till 6am. Good luck man. You’ll need it.” _

And with that, the phone stopped the recording, and Alex’s voice disappeared from the world. It was oddly empty without their voice, and Mike sighed to himself. Survive this weird place. Get out. Move on. It’s what he did best.

Mike watched as a little clock appeared in the corner of the tablet, just like Alex said it would. Throughout the building, the sound of a grandfather clock echoed like a warning bell. All the lights in the building went out besides the little lamp on his desk.

It was time to show this place what he could do.


	2. Night 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's night one~

Mike flipped through the cameras, taking in as much as he could before the real shit show started. There was twelve cameras in all, each showing different rooms. There was kitchen, two bedrooms for whatever reason, the generator room, two long hallway filled with doors, what looked like a clinic, a garden, a library, what he swore was the set to a T.V show or something, and then two right outside his doors. It was kind of weird, how familiar yet foreign it all was.

He ran through all the instructions Alex gave him. Listen for humming from the edgelord. Give attention to the pink maniac. Change up your routine. Watch the generator and hit the big red button if some oranged eyed bitch starts messing with it. Simple enough.

Mike mumbled to himself, keeping his ears looking for changing sounds in the air. For now he didn’t hear anything, but the animatronics were always a little laxed on the first night. Perhaps these guys were the same.

Just as he was about to put down the tablet, something caught his eye in the screen, in one of those seemingly endless hallways. Pushing up his glasses, Mike leaned in closer, seeing the shadows in the corner of the camera moving slightly, right in front of the many doors. He couldn’t actually see anything moving, but Mike had trained his eyes to pick up every change in the environment, the smallest details usually helped him the most in the long run. He studied the corner until he was positive someone was there, knowing exactly who it was.

“Hello there, Dark Edgelord,” Mike said to himself, flipping the cameras again. The hallways were the furthest places away from him, so he didn’t worry about Dark for now. What he was really curious about was this Wilford guy, and plus, if he really needed as much attention as Alex suggested he did, he should probably find him as soon as possible.

Mike was starting to think that this maniac might not even exist when he went to camera eight, the one with the T.V set. Right in front of the camera, a giant smile on his face, was what could only be Wilford. The man jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the tablet. Once he finally got his heart rate under control, he took a long look at this Wilford guy. Alex wasn’t lying when they said this dude had a pink mustache, in fact that was basically the highlight of his face. You could faintly see his outline and hair, but that damn mustache pretty much  _ glowed  _ with how bright it was. 

“So  _ you’re  _ the fucker that needs constant attention like a toddler,” Mike stated simply, looking at him longer. Alex said Wilford would know when he was looking at him, so the man took the time to listen around him for any unusual noises. Once again he didn’t hear amy footsteps for the Google guy or humming from Mr. Edgelord. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was already 2am, which was good, at least to Mike it was. It seemed his hypothesis about these guys being more docile the first night was true.

Standing up from the chair, tablet still in hand, Mike walked over to his right door, taking a few seconds to figure out how it worked. There wasn’t a light like he half expected there to be, but there was a lever that he supposed would close the door. After a moment of thinking, he realized that there wasn’t a reason he couldn’t close both doors and keep it that way, unless there was some secret rule Alex didn’t tell him about.

Oh well. He might not need them tonight anyways. 

Just as he thought that, the sound of slow, heavy footfalls began echoing throughout the building. Mike panicked for a moment before bringing up the tablet again, flipping quickly through the cameras to find the source, going to the second hallway-

And right there it was, some dude with a blue shirt and a giant  _ G  _ glowing right in the center of his chest. This must be Google.

He, or maybe it since it was an android, moved a  _ lot  _ slower than Mike had anticipated. Sure, he heard Alex say me moved slowly anyway, but seeing it for himself was different. The thing might as well have been moving through molasses.

It seemed the android has just exited a room within the hallway, seeing that was literally the only place it could have come from, unless all of them had some weird teleporting ability like Wilford did-

Oh yeah. He should probably check up on the pink maniac.

Leaving Google be, seeing that he was on the other side of the building and wouldn’t get here any time soon, Mike searched for the attention seeking man. He didn’t know how often he needed to check up on the pink maniac, seeing that Alex never gave any specifics, but he just wanted to make sure he didn’t die on the first night because a toddler threw a tantrum. That would just be humiliating. 

Wilford wasn’t in the last place he saw him, which honestly didn’t surprise Mike. He was about to click on the kitchen when the smell of what he swore was rot starting to pierce his nostrils. It was faint, faint enough that the average person wouldn’t know, or even notice, what it was. But like before, Mike had trained himself to notice every detail shift in the atmosphere, from what he could see to what he couldn’t. 

And right now, the air had the stench of a rotting corpse, faint yes, but still there. He’s been around enough of them to know what it smelled like. 

The man looked up, becoming so silent that he could hear his own heartbeat. With each passing moment, the rot became stronger and stronger, and the sound of ringing in the air slowly filled the room.

Dark. 

He was getting close. But which door did he close? He didn’t have time to second guess himself if Alex’s phone call was anything to go by. Deciding to risk it, Mike looked at both of the cameras outside his door, searching for the shifting shadows like he saw before. He didn’t see anything, the hallways too dark to see pretty much everything. The ringing meanwhile, got louder and louder, taunting him.

_ Common,  _ Mike thought to himself, flipping between the cameras. This bastard had to show himself at  _ some  _ point, after all, even the darkest of ghosts and monsters had to move in the light at some point in their existence.

Just before Mike was about to say fuck it, he saw what he needed. The corner of the wall in the left hallway turning grey. 

_ Gotcha bitch. _

The man sprinted for the left door, pulling the lever. The door closed with a  _ bang!  _ A green light popping up on the handle. Unknown to Mike, the other door now had a red light on it, and the lever would now not move.

Mike felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that he had bested the Edgelord that stuck to the shadows, thinking he could hide from Mike, but he quickly went back to work. He might have stopped Dark, but he still didn’t know where Wilford was, and he got the feeling the mustached maniac was getting impatient with him. Staying by the door, Mike went through the cameras again, this time finding Wilford quickly. He was in the kitchen, knife gleaming in his hand with a  _ Kiss the Cook!  _ apron on. That apron was the only thing he was wearing.

“I’d rather  _ not,” _ Mike said to himself, keeping the camera on the pink man for a few more seconds. He didn’t know if he should make faces at him, but he decided not too. Just looking at Wilford was enough.

Mike then went back to the camera on the outside of of the left door, checking very carefully for any shift in the shadows. He couldn’t hear any more ringing, but to him that meant nothing. These people were just that: people. They weren’t stupid animatronics that were fooled by masks and some doors. Even Google, the android, didn’t act like an animatronic. It had a goal, and it knew how to execute it. And the other android-

Wait, where the Hell  _ was  _ the other android? Bing was it?

A sense of dread going over him, Mike flipped to camera four, where the generator was. He couldn’t see anything that resembled the description of the robot, no orange anywhere to be seen. 

When Mike put down the tablet, he started to notice the slight shaking of the room each moment, like a giant-

Oh fuck,  _ Google! _

Mike brought the tablet back up, searching for the blue robot, and found him walking down the hallway of his  _ right  _ door. Not time to lose, he ran over to the right door, trying to pull down the lever, only for it not to move. Mike paled, staring at the stuck lever, which was glowing red. He pulled it again, with more force this time, and once again, nothing happened. Google just got closer and closer, eyes glowing blue in the darkness, barely illuminating his face, which was blank and emotionless.

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck- both doors can’t close at the same time, shit! _

At this realization, Mike unfroze, running back to the other door to pull the lever back up. His hands fumbled, sweat pouring from them as he shakily pulled it down, watching the light turn from green to yellow.

And then there was no light at all.

The man tasted sour bile rising in his throat as all of his sight disappeared, the sound of mechanical humming becoming nonexistent, and the light from the small lamp going out. Even Google seemed to have stopped, no loud footsteps to be heard.

Mike held his breath, understanding that the generator must have gone out.

Meaning that Bing had gotten into it.

Meaning that Mike was about to die any second now.

What time was it? It must be close, after all, it’s been a while since he checked. All he had to do was outrun the clock, just like with Freddy’s music box, with the Puppet, fooling Springtrap and fooling Baby. He could do this.

The footsteps were picking up again. Mike’s heart rammed in his chest, and he was sure everyone in the building could hear his heartbeat, could smell the sweat rolling down his back.

They were right outside his door now, the faintest glow of blue being seen in the darkness. Mike pressed his back against the nearest wall, hoping to bide his time, praying to every god he could think of to let him live another day. He would  _ not  _ die because of some stupid mistake. He  _ will  _ make it through this, if it was the last thing he did.

The man pressed his eyes together, refusing to look anymore as the robot came closer and closer, ready to strike and-

**DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!**

Mike’s eyes flew open, knowing that sound anywhere. The sound of heaven on earth, the angels singing and every prayer come true.

“Thank fuck!” the man exclaimed, eyes filled with the slight of a clock’s big hand shifting to land on the twelve, the little hand on the six, while at the point where they both met was a little red and black M. He had no clue what that meant, but he was glad the first night was over.

Then the world faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


	3. Night 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's night two~

Mike jerked up in his seat, gasping for air and blinking furiously at the world around him before realizing where he was. That Ego Inc place, with the edgelord, pink maniac and robot fucks that all wanted to end him in various and gruesome ways.

And last night, he nearly died. Mostly because he didn’t know the stupid doors only closed one at a time, something Alex never bothered to tell him, the bastard.

Mike looked to the phone, which once again had that little flashing light to show it had a new message, and sighed. Here he goes again.

The man pressed the voice message button, the operators voice filling the small room.

**“You have one new, voice message.”** _ Click. _

_ “Hey there!”  _ Alex cheered, sounding much happier than last time.  _ “You made it through night one, which is great. I won’t lie when I say I was nervous for you, seeing that you’re used to working with animatronics and whatnot, but you’re here! I won’t talk as long this time, so here we go. _

_ “I realized just as I ended the last call that I forgot to tell you something: the doors only shut one at a time. I don’t know if you figured it out or not, but now you know.” _

“Yeah you little devil, that would have been nice to know beforehand.”

_ “So tonight you have two more bad guys to worry about: The Host and Dr. Iplier. The Host is a weird one, I’ll say that. He’s completely blind, no eyes at all, but he walks around the place like he owns it (maybe he does, I don’t know) and is constantly talking under his breath. I’m not sure what he says at all, but I do know this: his words cause hallucinations. The Host won’t attack you, but he’ll make you see your worst nightmares, things that aren’t even there, and generally be a pain in the ass. Here’s the good thing: you can stop the hallucinations.  _

_ “On your table, there is a blue button that wasn’t there last night, right next to the red one. When you press it, a nice little melody starts to play in your room. This somehow soothes the guy, making all of your hallucinations go away while it plays. But you can only play it once every hour, so make sure to keep an eye on that.  _

_ “Then Dr. Fucks A Lot. This annoying shit likes to tell you you’re dying a lot. Like seriously, I think that’s the only thing the fucker says. Basically this dude will randomly pop in your room, not as a physical being, but like a projection of sorts. He’ll then say, ‘I’m sorry, you’re dying,’ before all of your bodily functions go haywire. Breathing will become harder, your heart rate will sky rocket and other amazing bullshit you have to deal with. The only way I’ve been able to stop this is to completely ignore him when he comes into the room, don’t look at him or acknowledge his existence. He’ll usually go away after a while. The longer you don’t look at him, the less severe the effects. Simple enough. _

_ “Good luck, Mike. Like I said before, you’ll need it.”  _ And the phone call went dead.

Mike took a deep breath, glancing at the blue button that definitely wasn't there before. It seemed these two dudes were just there to make his day miserable without ever laying a finger on him. He’s dealt with hallucinations and projections in the past, but they were always a pain in the ass to deal with. Can’t he work in one place without some mysterious being walking around, ready to mess with his head at any point in time? Apparently not.

The grandfather clock rang proud and true, signaling the start of the night, and Mike quickly picked up his tablet. It felt oddly heavy in his hands tonight.

Unlike last night, the sounds started instantly. A brief look around found that both Google and Dark were in the two hallways were the doors were, and Mike theorized that’s where all of them came from. Maybe the rooms were some sort of home base or something along those lines. 

The man narrowed his eyes at Dark, mumbling to himself about how it was hard to see him in the shadows, before setting off to find Wilford. In the back of his mind, he wondered about the whole pattern thing that Google could apparently detect, and thought about not looking for the pink man, but in the end decided against it. It wasn’t like he really even had a pattern anyway.

Mike blinked. Right there in one of the bedrooms was Wilford, completely naked with nothing but a pillow covering his nuts, knife in hand. He simply said, “what the  _ fuck,”  _ out loud, watching in disgust as the maniac winked at him without moving any other muscle. Mike rolled his eyes, checking the deciding to check the generator.

He practically fell out of his seat when he saw someone in there, tugging at the wires of the generator. There was no doubt in Mike’s mind that it was Bing, his eyes glowing a faint orange behind black glasses, with a black tank top with a bright B in the center. Getting himself together, Mike swiftly brought his hand down on the red button, watching through the tablet as the generator room lights flickered, and Bing along with it. The android froze, sparks running up his arms and into whatever computer he was made out of. The man held his breath, waiting for something to go wrong and show that he reacted to early or too late, but nothing ever did. It would seem that he was able to stop Bing from taking his power this time, and for that Mike sighed with relief.

The man flipped to the other room, finding Google a little bits away. At his pace, it would take him a while to get here, but he could still hear the blue robot in the distance. Mike couldn’t find Dark, but there was no sound of him anywhere, so he wasn’t worried for the moment.

Who he was curious about was this Host guy. So, after finding Wilford in that studio again (hanging from the ceiling no less) he set off on a little mission to find this guy. After a whole sweep of the building, he found nothing that resembled the description that Alex gave (but Google was rather close now, so he should do something about that).

Mike slowly put down the tablet, on guard for anything foreign in the room. He kept replaying Alex’s advice about that Dr. Iplier guy, wondering when he would pop into his office to fuck with his bodily functions. So far he hadn’t seen anything, and it was 4 a.m already.

Google was getting  _ really  _ close now, Mike thought to himself, the room shaking a bit. He jogged over to the right door, thinking this must be the side he always came from, and pulled the lever so that it was now green, the other one turning red. Now that he understood the whole only one door at a time thing, he would be smarter about this.

For a few minutes, Mike just stood there, listening to the whirling of machinery that came from the robot’s chest while looking through the cameras again. Bing wasn’t in the generator room, Dark was getting just a  _ little  _ too close for comfort and-

Was that  _ talking? _

Mike tilted his head listening harder, and indeed there was the sound of someone mumbling under their breath quietly, yet it spread through the entire building like a blanket. He couldn’t understand the words, but it didn’t matter, at least, it didn’t matter to the man.

In his silence, he didn’t realize that Google had moved, so knowing that Dark was on his way, Mike opened the right door and moved to the left, closing that one. The voice stayed persistent, gradually growing louder and louder, and Mike finally found the source on the cameras.

Oh, it was The Host alright.

Even though the cameras the man gave him the chills. There was some sort of bandage around his eyes, blood pouring from them and onto the long trench coat he was wearing. His mouth barely moved, but there was no confusion that this was the guy saying the words.

_ I’m not sure what he says at all, but I do know this: his words cause hallucinations. The Host won’t attack you, but he’ll make you see your worst nightmares _ .

But how close did he have to be before you needed to press the button? He was only one room away, and already Mike was starting to feel a little woozy. Better safe than sorry he guessed.

He looked up from the tablet, only to be met face to face with another person. Mike yelled, the words,  _ “I’m sorry, you’re dying,”  _ ringing through his ears as he stumbled back in shock. Breathing instantly became harder, something tightening in his lungs with each moment. His heart rate went up drastically, his face flushing red and his sight going everywhere. He couldn’t see the person, Dr. Iplier he thought, anymore, but the mumbling from The Host was louder that ever, making his head hurt. Flowers appeared around him, a giant yellow butterfly landing on his nose.

For a moment, Mike was in awe, even if everything in his body was struggling to stay upright, but he snapped out of it. Alex said there was no way to stop the doctor once he said his thing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop the hallucinations. He  _ had  _ to before Wilford or Dark or Google tried to attack him again.

Mike stumbled forward, his head swimming in pain and confusion as he tried to stay upright. The blue button seemed so close yet so far away all at the same time, and all he had to do was  _ press it- _

Mike yelped, falling against his chair and onto the floor, which was slowly turning into lava. He could feel the heat seeping through the floor, trying to burn him alive. The man panicked, shoving himself up and against the desk. He had to escape the lava! There must be a way, right? A button or something-

The button! He had to press the button, the blue button, for some reason that he couldn’t think of. It must be for something important. 

Without thinking, Mike slammed his fist on the blue button, and a melody started to pour from everywhere, above him, under his desk, all over the building, and the man blinked. There was no butterfly, no flowers, no lava. Just him and his desk, along with the loud classical music coming from everywhere.

So that’s what Alex meant about the hallucinations. That wasn’t at  _ all  _ what he was expecting, but oh well, he knew now.

The rest of the night was surprisingly uneventful. The Host never came back around, he shut Google and Dark two more times, Bing tried to get into the generator again, and Dr. Iplier wasn’t able to catch him again. Mike found that if he waited a moment before looking up and checking for signs of the doctor being there, be could just ignore him when he was, and he would disappear within a minute or so. He was getting the hang of this it felt like. Wilford was pretty much his entertainment at this point. It was oddly funny to find him in completely random places doing the most absurd thing imaginable.

So when the  **DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!** Of the grandfather clock broke through the silence, it made Mike jump in surprise, watching the big hand go to the 12 as the small one went to the 6, the M as weird as ever.

6 am. Another night done. He could actually do this.

But before he could congratulate himself, the world went black once again.

  
  
  
  
  


_ Beep… beep… beep… beep. _

_ There’s that sound again. It was starting to annoy him in a way he could explain. It was like he’s heard it for a long period of time, yet it was new at the same time.  _

_ “When… wake… up?” questioned someone, someone who seemed to have some sort of speech problem, and like from the voices from before, sounded  _ **_very_ ** _ familiar. He was starting to get tired of these people that he knew but couldn’t place in the slightest. _

_ “Who knows, King,” came another person, before they started speaking in a whole nother language that he’s never heard before. It was slippery and odd, and it made his head hurt just listening to it. _

_ He wished he just knew who these people were… _

_ The world was silent again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


	4. Night 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I decided to do a double upload today, so I hope you enjoy!

When Mike opened his eyes again, he was prepared this time. He knew that he would wake up in this room, knew that when he looked at the phone that a phone call would await him. He’s known this since the first time he’s done this. It was like this was his fate.

Fate. He never much liked the idea of it; after all, he’d like to control his own destiny, not have some gods from above dictate his life. But he could not fight gods.

Mike leaned forward, hardly looking at the blinking light and simply pressing the button. 

**“You have one, new, voice message.”** _ Click. _

_ “Alex here again. I wonder if you’re getting tired of my voice, I’ve been told that a time or two. But hey, I’m your key to survival, so listen up! Tonight you have two more bastards to work with, so here we go. _

_ “First off is a school boy named Yandere, but I just call him Yan for short. The way I like to think about him is this: basically he’s Foxy from the first location. No joke, he’s literally just Foxy. You’ll find him in the second hallway with all of those doors, the one with the flower petals falling around it. If you see him running your way, close the door and wait. You’ll be fine. _

_ “The next guy is… weird to say the least. You can’t see them on your cameras, but there are many vents in this building, and they all connect to one another. A guy named King likes to hangout in these vents, making ruckus and all sorts of chirping noises. This makes it hard to hear, well, pretty much everything going on around you. It comes and goes, sure, but it’s still annoying. Unfortunately, you can’t do anything about this except listen very closely and be very careful, which by the way, I want to talk to you about tonight. _

_ “Tonight is when things start to get real. They aren’t going to play with you much anymore after this; Wilford will get bored easier, Dark will start to lose his patience, Google’s computers will go into overdrive, Bing will go for the generator more, The Host’s visions become stronger, and Dr. Iplier will show up more often. You  _ **_must_ ** _ be aware of your surroundings at  _ **_all times_ ** _ if you want to make it through these next few nights. _

_ “Okay, I’ve said what I needed to say. Oh, and don’t worry about anything after, Mike. I have that all planned out.” _

And the phone clicked off. Mike couldn’t help but stare, wondering what in the world Alex’s last sentence meant.  _ I have everything worked out.  _ It was probably supposed to be reassuring, but to the man it just sounded… off, weird. Like Alex was somehow one of the gods that controlled his fate.

He didn’t have time to dwell, however, seeing that the grandfather clock was now ringing through the building. He might not have understood what Alex meant when they said that part, but he  _ did  _ understand the first part; now it when things got real. 

It was always night three, wasn’t it?

No time to lose, Mike picked up his tablet, ready to take on the bastards that haunted this place, and oh boy they were already moving. Google was going the same pace he always went, but something about his posture was  _ intense  _ and killer like. Great. He flipped throughout the building, hoping to get a quick reading on everyone else. Dark was in one of the bedrooms, simply standing in the corner as the shadows swirled around him. He was harder to see that usual, but he was definitely there.

The Host nearly gave him a heart attack, the blind being right in front of the camera, mouthing words that he couldn’t make out in the library. Mike could very faintly hear him, but it was so quiet that it didn’t matter right now.

Next was Wilford, who was by the generator oddly enough. Mike didn’t realize that the others went there, he had always assumed that Bing was the only one that went into that room. The mustached man was laying on it in the,  _ ‘draw me like one of your French girls,’  _ position, which made Mike shudder at the mental image.

“That’s enough of you, Wilford,” he said to himself, going to the second hallway where Alex said this Foxy like person would be. Sure enough, the second door to the left had flower petals falling all around it, even though there was no place where they could have come from. It was like all laws of logic and physics just  _ disregarded  _ this one room.

And there in the darkness, was someone just barely peeking their head out of the room, the slightest tuff of red hair coming through the open door.

There he was.

Mike jumped, suddenly hearing the sound of clanging from above. It was followed by some sort of chirping, along with whatever made the noise spriting away. The man didn’t have time to ponder it however, seeing that it sounded like Google was really close, along with The Host. So, without any time to lose, Mike hit the blue button, a sweet melody that he wasn’t able to hear before coming from it, and ran to the side that Google always came to, pulling the lever. He could see those glowing eyes in the darkness, the door coming down with a clang.

Geez, it felt like everything was scaring him all of a sudden.

The music faded out, The Host’s mumbling unable to be heard. Mike guessed it would only stop for so long, even though he wished he could do it one time and be over with it. He glanced at the time, seeing it just turn to 2 o’clock. 

Dammit.

A quick look at the cameras told Mike that Google was now gone, but Dark was close behind. He sprinted off to the other door, only to remember half way through that only one door could be shut at a time, and nearly tripped himself running back to the closed door. He sloppily shoved the lever up, turning around himself to go back to the left door. The sharp ring of humming filled his ears, the walls turning grey and monochrome. The man threw himself at the controls, pulling down the lever with so much force he was sure he just broke it.

_ Clang! _

Mike sighed in relief. He was positive that if another moment had passed, he would be dead. He could feel the freezing cold of Dark’s body seeping through the door, threatening to consume him if he stayed there long enough. Mike shuttered, stepping back from the door and taking a deep breath. He could do this. 

The man checked the generator room to find Bing about to open the panel of the generator, and dashed to the two buttons, slamming his fist on the red one. The lights in the generator room once again flickered, and the android slumped to the ground.

“Take that, robo bitch,” Mike said with satisfaction, about to look up when he heard light breathing, right by his ear. He kept his gaze locked at the screen, every nerve tense. In the corner of his eye he could see the faintest outline of a reflective surface, circular in shape.

Dr. Iplier.

Mike kept his gaze locked to the tablet, heart rate starting to increase slightly. He took the time to flip to where Yandere was, seeing that he was almost fully out of his room, ready to bolt at a moments notice. The man observed the school boy’s appearance, which consisted of what looked like a dress with a rather short skirt and a tie. It wasn’t what Mike was expecting, but hey, who was he to judge? He’s seen plenty of weird things in his life.

He looked back to the corner of his eyes, crossing his fingers that the doctor would be gone. To his relief Dr. Iplier was, and Mike sighed, happy not to deal with the stupid side effects for now.

He looked back to Yandere, only to freeze when he saw no one there, door with the flower petals around in wide open. 

“Shit!” he yelled out, flipping through the cameras. He could hear what he thought were light and quick footsteps, and Mike had major deja vu from when Foxy would run. He couldn’t actually find Yandere, much to his dismay, but he could tell that the footsteps were getting louder from his left side, so with no time to lose, Mike dashed over to the left door and shut it, hoping that he was right with his prediction. If not, he would die. That’s all there was to it. It was surprisingly comforting in a way.

After a few tense seconds, there was a  _ thud  _ on the door, followed by three others. Mike didn’t move, holding his breath as the knocks stopped. After another minute, he checked the cameras, seeing no one outside his door and the one where Yandere came from tightly closed.

He did it. 

It was 4am by this point, and Mike was starting to get used to the routine of all of the killers. He closed the doors on Dark and Google and Yandere again, shocked Bing, made The Host go away with his music, ignoring King for the most part, and Dr. Iplier didn’t show up again. Everything was nice, yet, he had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something important. It nagged and nagged, becoming so bad that he couldn’t concentrate as much as he would have liked to been able to.

What was he forgetting?

That answer came to him a 5am, when the smell of bubblegum and gunpowder filled his nose.

“Oh,  _ fuck-” _

The lights at his right door flickered, and before Mike had the chance to second guess himself, he threw himself at the door and shut it, hearing what he swore was a  _ gunshot  _ hit the metal. It made him flinch back, nearly dropping the tablet, pulse pounding in his ears. Mike’s thoughts struggled momentarily to recall what Alex had said when Wilford got really close. Something about complimenting and flirting with him, right? If that was the case, he was  _ really  _ about to struggle. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a girlfriend, let alone the last time he flirted with someone. His days had been occupied by too many killer robots and dead people for that.

“Geez, you’ve been ignoring me! I thought you were just makin’ me wait, but no! You forgot!” came a slurred and oddly accented voice from behind the closed door. Mike had to assume it was Wilford talking, and he was honestly not surprised that he talked like that.

But what was he supposed to say back? One wrong move and the maniac would teleport in here and snap his neck, just like Alex said. 

Time to put those nonexistent flirting skills into use.

“Sorry big guy, I just couldn’t find you and everyone else kept taking away my attention,” Mike said in what he hoped to be a ‘flirty’ voice or something. He looked through the cameras, realizing that just because Wilford was there didn’t mean that everyone else was on hold. Google couldn’t get in from his left, but he still had to deal with Dark, Yandere and the others.

Another look to the clock told him that it was still 5am. How long was this damn hour going to be?

Clanging from above. King was on the move again it seemed, and he cut off the first part of Wilford’s reply.

“-it! Are you sure you didn’t just forget? I don’t like it when people forget,” his voice was nearly in a growl now, the clicking of a gun being loaded coming from the door. Sweat trickled down Mike’s next at this, and simultaneously The Host’s mumbling was becoming present to his ears.

Shit shit  _ shit. _

“How could I ever forget you?” Mike replied, hoping he didn’t sound as terrified as he was. He could pretty easily hit the button needed to activate the music for The Host, but he wasn’t sure if Wilford would take offense to that or not. Maybe he would think that Mike was ignoring him, and Mike did  _ not  _ want to know what happened to those who do that. 

The Host was becoming louder, but Wilford was still there. Mike was starting to see the first signs of hallucinations from the blind fuck, but he still didn’t press the button. He was positive that they were changing color anyway, so he wasn’t entirely sure which on was which anymore. Was it the green one that played the music? Or was it the red one?

“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people forget about ol’ Wilford Warfstache! But there’s no way  _ you  _ could ever forget. If you did, you would be dead!”

Mike blinked several times to process what Wilford was saying. His thoughts were becoming all mushed together now, bugs crawling over him and buzzing in his ear that won't go away. He  _ had  _ to press that button.

“Wil… how would you feel if I played some music real quick?” Mike managed to say, praying that his voice wasn’t slurring like he thought it was. 

The pink maniac hummed in confusion. “Now why would you need to do that?”

“I… I-” there were spirits coming through the walls now. Mike’s head pounded, ringing vibrating through the room. Nothing made sense anymore. He heard someone speaking, but couldn’t understand their words, he could see the world around him, but couldn’t process it.

But there was one thing he could make out. It was a sharp chiming sound, and it went off… three times? No, seven. It had to be seven, right?

Mike fell to the ground, all feeling in his limbs evaporating. There was a clock in front of him, the hands moving quickly from number to number, forwards and backwards.

Then there was nothing but black.

  
  
  
  
  


_ Beep… beep… beep… beep… _

_ Why did it keep going? Didn’t it have other things to do than beep at him constantly like some broken record? He so badly wanted to jump up and break whatever was making that sound, but he couldn’t move. He so wished he could move. _

_ There was someone talking to him. Or a least, that’s what he thought. He could only hear one person. _

_ “I wonder what you’re like,” they were saying. “I hope you get better… even Mark’s starting to worry about you. It’s been three days.” _

_ Who was Mark? He didn’t know. He never did know. Why couldn’t he know? _

_ Silence. Nothing but dead, empty silence. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


	5. Night 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your 4th night~

Mike squeezed the armrests, eyes still tightly closed. His hands sunk into the plush of the armrests, grounding him momentarily. Usually he would be rather eager to continue to the next night, to get it all over with mostly. But for whatever reason, it wasn’t like that with this place. His limbs were starting to feel heavy, his eyes wanting to stay closed and sleep.

He finally got the strength to open them, vision blurry for a few seconds before clearing. Mike rubbed his eyes under the glasses, feeling them water.

There was another message. Of course there was. Why wouldn’t there be?

Mike lazily pressed the voicemail button, trying to concentrate on what Alex was going to say. It was a lot harder than it normally was, but at least he was.

“You have one, new, voice message,” Mike said with the recording, wincing as it beeped. 

_ “Hey Mike,”  _ he heard Alex start, noticing that their voice was kinda panicky. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why Alex sounded like that.

_ “Look, I’m going to need you to hang in there, alright? You’re nearly there, I promise, you just have to make it through two more nights. I know what you’re feeling right now, but don’t give into it. There  _ **_is_ ** _ a light at the end of this tunnel, but you have to make it through. Promise me you’ll make it through,”  _ they finished, sounding desperate. The recording was glitching a little bit, but it was still understandable.

“I… promise?” Mike replied hesitantly, not sure why he was responding to a recording. Alex sighed anyway, as if they knew that he promised.

_ “Good. Now, there’s one more person you’ll have to deal with tonight, and honestly… he’s an enigma, I’ll give you that. I don’t understand him half the time, but I can tell you how to deal with him.  _

_ “His name is Bim Trimmer (you can just call him Bim) and long story short, he’s a show host. He’s an odd one, mostly because he doesn’t try to hurt you or distract you in any way… in fact he tries to befriend you. He’ll come to your door and talk to you, try to get you to open the door and whatnot. I’m honestly not sure if he means what he says or not, but I don’t take any chances. If you see if near you, close the door and keep it closed until he goes away. _

_ “However, I highly recommend you listen to what he has to say. There has been many of times where he had helped me and called out things I would have never noticed. You might not be able to trust him, but he will help you. _

_ “That’s all for tonight. Hang in there, Mike. Good luck.” _

And the phone went dead, the grandfather clock ringing in Mike’s ears. It took most of his willpower to pick up the tablet and begin the night, a nagging sensation at his chest bothering him.

They didn’t mess around at all tonight. With the first two hours Dark visited three times, Google twice, he had to shock Bing, and Yandere was nearly on his second run to visit, more than half way out of his door with the randomly appearing petals. The Host was getting nearly too close for comfort, he’s been annoyed the shit out of by King, and through all of this he’s made  _ sure  _ Wilford’s been getting the attention he so desperately needed.

But this Bim guy still hadn’t shown up yet. Mike was starting to wonder if he was even real and think that Alex had made him up. But why would they? There was no reason to, especially after all of that ‘don’t give up’ bull.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to meet the guy, anyway. It seemed really weird that in all of the crazy killers out for his blood that there was one that was trying to help him for some reason. It was suspicious to say the least.

Mike looked out of the corner of his eye as he looked down at the tablet, listening and hearing if the doctor was there. He still hadn’t shown up either, but unlike Bim, Mike knew Dr. Iplier was real. Real and terrifying.

He wasn’t there, so Mike quickly pressed the blue button, the now familiar melody playing throughout the building. The Host’s muttering’s stopped, and any hallucinations coming his way was dropped.

Now he had to worry about Yandere. Mike could hear him running now that the music was stopping, the light, quick footsteps that was gradually growing louder. He ran over to the left door, pulling the lever shut, and a few seconds later the school boy was banging on the door.

“Maybe next time, freak,” Mike mumbled to himself, pulling the lever back up. King was banging around in the vents again. The guy wasn’t dangerous so to say, as in he didn’t block out every noise that Mike needed to survive, but he was damn annoying. 

“That seems like a rather harsh thing to say, don’t you think?”

Mike instinctively bolted to the other door, closing it without a thought. Once the door was down he wondered if it was Wilford again, and he hadn’t been paying attention, but this was immediately dismissed. This sounded nothing like the pink maniac, the voice much gentler and softer, too much unlike the cartoony and animated cheer Wilford had. 

“That was rude. I’m not gonna hurt you, you know. I just want to help,” the voice said with slight hurt in their voice. Mike narrowed his eyes, having a bad feeling on who this was.

“I hate to tell you this  _ sweety  _ but I have no idea who you are. Wouldn’t trust you even if I wasn’t in the middle of a bunch of crazed killers that would gladly gut me,” Mike snapped back, bringing up his cameras. Right outside, leaning on the right door, was a man with a suit and glasses. His dark hair was slightly slicked back, the rest a wavy mess. His nearly gold eyes were staring right into the camera, and he gave a little wave.

Mike scowled, knowing  _ exactly  _ who this was.

“Bim Trimmer,” he mumbled to himself. To his surprise, the man outside seemed to flush at that.

“So you  _ do  _ know who I am? See I’m not that bad! I just want to help like I said before…” he trailed off, giving a innocent enough smile.

Mike scoffed, quickly flipping the cameras to the generator room to see Bing, and hit the red button on his desk. He also needed to find Wilford soon, realizing that while Bim might be here, distracting him, the rest was still out to kill him. He could also here the beginnings of The Host getting closer, and sighed to himself. He’s already dealt with the blind freak once that hour, and he could only play the music one time an hour. 

“That’s not what Alex said. They said to not trust you at all,” Mike said without thinking, finding Wilford in a hallway, leaning against a wall and winking at the camera. Mike swore it was this dudes mission to get into his pants or something, given all of the suggestive positions he’s been in and whatnot. It was almost flattering, what not quite.

Mike could  _ hear  _ Bim pouting behind the door, flipping through the cameras with a satisfied feel in his stomach. Dark and Yan were still at bay, neither one close enough to worry about, and Google seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps it was Bim, seeing that the android wouldn't be able to enter the room while he was right outside and the door was closed.

But that was the problem. If Bim stayed there, Dark and Yandere had all the opportunities they needed to come in here and kill Mike.

“You should check up on Bing, by the way.”

Mike stared at the door. Was this what Alex meant when they said that Bim would give helpful tips, and that he should listen to him? If it was, he didn’t have much time to lose. If his power went out now, he was screwed. It didn’t help that he could hear The Host getting closer, and it wasn’t 4am yet.

He brought the cameras back up, going to the generator room, and sure enough, there was Bing messing around with the wires. Mike slammed his fist down on the red button, watching as the electrical impulse shocked the orange robot and shut him down. It was almost disturbing the way Bing shut down, going limp and lifeless like a corpse.

Mike should know. He’s seen plenty enough in his time.

“See? I told you, I just want to help!” Bim exclaimed, sounding a lot more excited than Mike would think he would be after pretty much killing off his friend, even if it was temporary. He switched cameras, not wanting to see Bing reboot. It would be took much like a dead body coming back to life, and even the thought of that brought back bad memories he wanted to leave behind him.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You could just be trying to gain my trust only to snap my neck and drain my blood like you’re a cannibal or some shit like that,” Mike replied, hitting the blue button now that it had finally turned to 4am. The Host was  _ much  _ closer than he liked, the blue button slowly turning purple with each minute that passed.

As the music played, Mike could hear Bim hum along with it, knowing every note from start to finish. His voice was nicer than Mike would like to admit, but now he had a glaring problem coming his way.

More specifically, Eyeliner Edgelord 69.

If Mike didn’t get Bim to move so that he could shut the other door, he’ll be dead in less than 10 minutes. 

“Look, Bim,” Mike started as the music faded away. “If you really want to help me, you’ll move  _ right  _ now. I don’t really care where you go or what you do, just move for about an hour and we’ll be fine.”

Mike prayed that Bim would listen to him, holding his breath as the sound of ringing gradually became louder and louder. He didn’t have much time left.

“ _ Or,”  _ Bim dragged out hopefully. “You could let me in and I’ll help you?”

Mike wanted to slam his head on the table in frustration. He didn’t have time for this back and forth bullshit. Dark and possibly Yandere were out to kill him, and kill him  _ soon,  _ but here he was trapped with this son of a bitch that  _ might  _ kill him but also might not.

“Bim,  _ please,”  _ Mike practically begged. “I don’t have time for this.  _ Go away, _ or I’ll come out there and murder you myself.”

That seemed to do the trick. Bim must have heard the firmness in his voice, or just decided that he was done for now, because Mike watched him walk away through the cameras. Once he couldn’t be seen anymore, Mike ran over and pulled the lever up, immediately dashing over to the other door and closing it. By then an entire quarter of the left side of the room was grey, and the ringing was hurting his ears.

If Bim had stayed any longer, Mike would be dead right now.

Or, if Mike would have listened to Bim in let him in he would be dead by now.

Dark went away, but Mike kept the door down. Yandere was about to bolt but Google was all the way across the building in his starting point. He did a quick look through all the cameras, finding Wilford in the kitchen with a rather large butcher knife and wearing… a dress. Seriously, what the fuck was up with this dude? A crossdressing murder, knife and attention loving pink fuck that flirted with everything that had a heartbeat. That was a sentence and description Mike never thought he would use to describe someone, but it fitted Wilford perfectly.

Bing was back in the generator room, the persistent shit. A simple hit of the red button took care of him real quick.

Mike looked up, and was constantly attacked by some figure, and fell out of the chair with a yelp. He expected to feel something, his neck being snapped, a punch to the face, but there was nothing. There was only the thumping of his increasing heart and the struggle of breath entering his lungs. His vision swam, the room becoming an ocean as his ears strained to hear anything around him.

Dammit, dammit,  _ dammit.  _ The doctor got to him. It was already 5am and he grew sloppy, not checking to see if Dr. Iplier was ready to jump him. And now he paid the price, getting on all fours and his head began to pound. Loud clunking sounds from above made his head worse, spikes of pain moving throughout his whole body.

Google. He was getting close, Mike knew that much from his last look at the cameras. The android would be here soon, and Mike could  _ not  _ be on the ground wallowing in pain when that happened.

The man grunted, closing his eyes as he started to crawl over to the right door. With each step he felt off balance, the ground shifting underneath him. He was sure that his glasses had fallen off at some point, because his vision was even blurrier than before.

Mike pushed on, feeling slight vibrations in the ground. They had to be from Google’s steps. He made it to what he assumed to be a wall, pressing a hand against it for support. Slower than he would have liked he stood up, leaning all of his weight on the wall. Every movement was agony, and Mike was cursing the fact that Dr. Iplier’s mind fuck still hadn’t worn off yet.

He looked to his left, barely able to make out the lever that he needed to pull in order to save himself from the robot. He side stepped over to it, nearly tumbling to the ground two times along the way.

Once he finally got close enough, Mike shakily grabbed the lever, weakly pulling on it. It didn’t budge, and he pushed down harder, now able to hear the whirling of the machine only a few feet away. It moved a little, and Mike let out a whine, pushing down with the rest of his nearly gone strength. He force caused him to collapse to the ground, head hitting with a  _ thud. _

He didn’t know if the door closed or not. He couldn’t hear, could hardly see, and he couldn’t move. All he could faintly make out was a loud, continuous, dinging noise that rang like gunshots through his head.

Mike blacked out before he could see anything else.

  
  
  
  
  


_ Beep… beep… beep… beep… _

_ There was a light. It was faint, but it was there. He couldn’t make out it’s shape, but it was better than complete darkness. _

_ Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? _

_ People were talking. People were always talking, though. _

_ A sound, a sound that made everyone stop. Was it from him? It couldn’t have been, right? _

_ The people were talking again, more urgent this time. But before he could try and figure out what they were saying, the light went out and the sounds stopped again. _

_ Oh well. Back to Hell he went. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


	6. Night 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's night 5~

One more night and it’ll all be over. One more night and he’ll be free.

At least, that’s what Mike was thinking about as he once again found himself in the plush chair in the office he’s seen for four nights now. Like the other night, his limbs felt heavy and muscles weak. Why couldn’t he just sink into the feeling and let it all go? To never have to survive another five nights again and be at peace, knowing he had freed those kids, knowing that Afton, the Purple Guy, or whatever, was gone?

But the words of Alex still came strong in his thoughts.

_ Look, I’m going to need you to hang in there, alright? You’re nearly there, I promise, you just have to make it through two more nights. I know what you’re feeling right now, but don’t give into it. There  _ **_is_ ** _ a light at the end of this tunnel, but you have to make it through. Promise me you’ll make it through. _

Mike promised them. Sure, it was through a recording, but something about this person… just felt  _ real.  _ All of the other Phone Guys were so secretive and cheerful at the same time, while this one was real with him since the start. It made him  _ actually  _ believe that this would all end soon.

With that in mind, Mike opened his eyes to the world around him, taking in every detail he could. This  _ will  _ be his last night, one way or another. He’ll never deal with these shit shows ever again.

He pressed the voicemail button on the phone, read to hear Alex’s last message before he started his 5th night.

Instantly the sounds of what Mike swore was a newscast filled the air, static bleeding through everything. Ice went through Mike’s veins, the sound reminding him of the phone guy’s message from the first time. It wasn’t a pleasant memory in the slightest. 

_ “No… stop! … Jim’s… dammit all… Mike!”  _ the faint talking finally cleared up, revealing Alex in what Mike thought was a state of distress. It made him dig his nails into the arms of his chair, wanting to somehow help the other but knowing he couldn’t. He was always too late to save everybody. He took a few deeps breaths as the recording continued, wanting to keep his head as clear as possible so he could hear everything Alex had to say.

_ “I don’t have much time, you hear me? Everything’s coming to a close. You’re waking up, the Ego’s are waking up, everyone is. When that finally happens I won’t be here anymore. You have to keep going- whatever it takes. I don’t care of you have to hit Wilford in the head with a baseball bat to keep him away, just  _ **_do it._ ** _ I- fucking Jim’s! Okay, Mike, hang on. You will get help, just hang on, I promise everything will be alright-” _

And the newscast consumed the recording once again, cutting off whatever Alex had to say. It stayed that way until Mike stopped the recording, grim determination filling his heart. Alex, whoever they were and whatever they did, was gone. Or, would be gone soon to be more accurate. When he and the ‘Ego’s’ woke up, whatever  _ that  _ was supposed to mean. I mean, he was awake right now, wasn’t he? He could smell everything around him, feel the cool air of the office, see the world he was thrusted into, forced to survive with nothing but his wits and reactions.

Mike was pulled from his thoughts when the telltale grandfather clock started ringing, starting the beginning of the 5th and final night. Mike could  _ feel  _ the monsters in the building come to life, ready to take their chances to kill him.

No. They would  _ not  _ win. He’s come too far to give up now.

  
  
  
They were ruthless, that much Mike will give them. All of them seemed to have been set to  _ Ultra Killer Mode  _ in order to try and kill him. You could see and hear just how angry and aggressive they were being. Dr. Iplier was there every other time Mike looked up, coming so close that Mike felt dizzy just by looking in the corner of his eye. The Host got so close so frequently that he nearly took over the security guard’s mind every time, especially since Mike could only play the music once every hour.

King was making his life a living nightmare, almost constantly moving around and making it hard to hear Dark and even The Host and Dr. Iplier. Yandere was running to his door every hour or more, Google became faster moving than he had ever been before, Bing just kept coming back time and time again, and Wilford was getting impatient with him. Mike didn’t know how, but it was like there was a timer in his mind for when the pink maniac was growing bored and wanting some attention. That timer was going off a lot more than Mike would like, and maybe more than he could handle.

Google was back. It was impossible to miss his loud, harsh footsteps as he walked through the wallway. The problem was, Yandere was currently at the left door, banging on it. Usually the red head would only hit it about three times, but now he hitting it for a good minute or more.

“Come on Yan,” Mike whispered to himself, sweat running down his forehead. “You didn’t get me this time. Come back later.”

There was the sound of the school boy growling, and then he was finally gone, disappearing back to his room. Mike practically shouted with joy, swiftly pulling up the lever and sprinting over to the right door. He could see Google’s arm reaching out, inches from his face-

And then the door was down, Mike trembling from the close call. He looked at his hands as they shaked, tears burning behind his eyes all of a sudden. Sure, he’s dealt with many close calls before, but he’s always been able to shake them off and move on. For whatever reason… it was becoming harder and harder to do so. He could have  _ died  _ right there. Then his whole life would have meant nothing, just killed by some psychopathic robot that wanted his blood. 

What would he do when this was all over? How could he live knowing all the horrors he’s been through, the people he’s killed and the ones he tried to save? The never ending cycle of surviving and moving on coming to an abrupt halt?

Mike squeezed his hand into a fist, the pain of his nails digging into his palms snapping him out of his pity session. Why did he care so much what he was going to do after all of this? Right now he needed to focus on surviving and making it through this.

With that, he went right back to work, but something was wrong. In the corners of the screen he swore he kept seeing a man, but everytime he tried to get a better look, he disappeared. He looked just like the others in a sense… the weird thing was, he looked  _ normal.  _ Like he was an actual human being.

For now, Mike tried to ignore the figure, seeing that he didn’t actually pose a threat to him. Just as he found Wilford (in the clinic dressed in a slutty nurses outfit, no less) a sound he had never heard before started floating into his room. 

Mike strained his ears, listening the best he could to the sound. He was pretty sure someone was singing, but who? None of them had ever done that before.

He flipped through the cameras, stopping when he came to the garden. He didn’t come to this camera very often, seeing that he’s never seen one of them in here, but now it looked like someone was.

It was Bim, Mike thought. It had to be, the suit, the glasses and hair, it was Bim. The show host was walking around, watering plants and singing to himself without a care in the world. It was odd, a rather domestic sight compared with everything he’s seen here.

As if Bim knew he was there, he looked up at the camera, smiling and waving brightly. He mouthed something, and it took Mike a moment to realized what he was mouthing.

_ Yan is on his way. _

The second he thought that, the sound of someone running came to Mike’s ears. He dashed over to the left door, shutting it forcefully. Less than a minute later, Yandere was banging on the door so hard that Mike thought that the metal would give in.

But it didn’t. Yandere eventually went away, probably frustrated that he was foiled yet again. Mike thanked Bim in his head, seeing that he hadn’t really checked the on the red head in a while, and probably wouldn’t have for another few minutes.

Just as he was celebrating with himself, the thing he dreaded the most happened.

The power went out.

Mike froze as the whole world went black, an on sense of deja vu hitting him in the stomach. All of the sounds were gone, and even his own breathing was silent. 

He recalled what Alex said about when this happened. They said that the power would kick back on, but that until then, you’re a sitting duck with no way to protect yourself.

Great.

Mike tried to remember who was closest to him before the power went out, mentally going through the positions of everyone. Google had just been reset, seeing that he had closed the door on him not five minutes ago, and he had just dealt with Yandere. His best bet was probably Dark being the closest, so when the power kicked back on, he would close the left door, which he was already at.

Okay. He had a plan, which was great.

But the power was still off. It occurred to Mike that he actually didn’t know how long this usually lasted. The one time he didn’t stop Bing from getting to the generator was night one, and even then the night ended before the power came back on.

He could hear ringing now. It wasn’t as strong as it usually was, but it was definitely there. Mike tensed, ready to pull the lever the second the power turned back on. The ringing got closer and closer, the rot smell tingeing the air.

And in a blink of an eye, it turned back on. Mike was too shocked to react at first, thinking there would be at least a little bit of warning before everything suddenly turned back on.

But he had not time to wonder about that. Dark was just outside, looking angry and bloodthirsty.

Mike lunged to the lever, pulling it down and watching as the edgelord disappeared behind the metal sheet. The ringing intensified, hurting Mike’s ears so much that he stumbled back, covering them. It lasted about a minute before Dark finally went away, taking part of Mike’s hearing with him.

The security guard went back to work, finding Wilford yet again (in the other bedroom, on his stomach with his legs up and ankles crossed) and shutting down The Host yet again with the music. Another close call with Dr. Iplier happened, this time Mike becoming really nauseous for a few seconds, but still nothing like before.

5am. It was 5am, and he was still alive. Mike was exhausted, tired, ready to collapse, but all he had was one more hour. 

Everything became a blur. He stopped Bing again, closed the door on Yandere and Google again, went through the frustration of King making too much noise, and once again heard Bim singing in his garden. It still confused him what the other was doing, but he never once came to the door like he did last night. He didn’t give any other hints either, but Mike didn’t think it really mattered at this point.

“Come on, 6am,” he said to himself, eyes glancing at the time. “Come on, you’re so close.”

It was, but this hour felt like it was going on for three. His heart was pounding harder than ever, sweat stinking up the office, every muscle twitching in anticipation.

He was terrified something would go wrong. He would forget about someone, that Alex wa lying about it all being over, everything.

But then, like heaven had come to earth, it happened. The grandfather clock rang six times, and he watched as the minute hand struck the twelve, relief and joy pulsing through his veins.

He did it! He actually did it!

Mike jumped up, yelling out in pure glee, the clock burning into his eyes. He was free! Everything would be fine now!

He calmed down, feeling ecstatic about everything. But… something was off. The clock didn’t usually last this long…

And then a man, the man he kept seeing out of the corner of his eye, was jumping out at him, eyes black and screaming. 

 

 

  
  
_ He was so close. It was right there, taunting him, but he couldn’t reach it. The darkness was trying to reveal itself, but he refused. No, he would not give into this madness, this  _ **_fear_ ** _ that constantly plagued him. _

_ “Let… me… out,” he gasped, throat scratchy and hoarse. But his plea fell on deaf ears. _

_ Let him out. Let  _ **_everything_ ** _ out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


	7. Night 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's night 6~

_ Beep… beep… beep… beep… _

The sound rang in Mike’s ears for quite a while, repetitive and annoying, yet somehow soothing all at the same time, familiar to him. The smell of antiseptic and hospitals filled his nose, something pinching at his arms.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. That’s all he seemed to be able to do, his eyes too heavy to lift, limbs unresponsive. He was this way for what felt like several hours, not able to move or react. He heard people come in and out, but they rarely said anything, and even if they did Mike quickly forgot what was exchanged. 

Then, when he thought he would never be able to move from this position again, his eyes simply opened, like he never was stuck at all. Mike stared at the white ceiling for many minutes, trying to comprehend what was happening. The light was starting to hurt his eyes however, so he squeezed them shut in attempts to get himself together.

His senses were clearer now, even though he could tell they weren’t at 100 percent. He had enough sense to put together that he was in some sort of hospital, but not enough to understand why he was there and what his problem was.

Mike groaned, opening his eyes again, this time to the side to avoid the light. To his right he saw a tray with various liquids and tools that a doctor might need, even though he knew what none of them did. He made a weak fist, bunching up part of the bed he was currently laying on, and tried to sit up. It took a while, but after a few tries he managed to stay up on his own, slightly out of breath.

Next was standing up. Yes, logically he knew that the best course of action would be to wait for someone to tell him what’s going on, but he didn’t like this place one bit. Something about it felt  _ way  _ too familiar, way too  _ wrong. _

Mike swung his legs over, just then seeing the needle in his arm, which was rather blurry and hard to see. He cringed, seeing that he hated needles with a burning passion. In the back of his mind he realized his glasses were gone, but he would worry about that later. 

Right now, he had other priorities.

Like someone walking into the same room he was.

And that someone being Dr. Iplier.

Both Mike and the doctor saw each other at the same time, Dr. Ipier’s eyes widening, the clipboard in his hands dropping to the ground. A spike of fear went through Mike as they stared at each other, thinking that this was another hallucination, but no, the doc didn’t jump out at him and yell, “I’m sorry you’re dying,” like he normally would. He was just a regular old doctor, right?

That’s not what his instincts told him. Every muscle in his body told him to  _ run,  _ run as far away as humanly possible and never look back.

Before he decided whether or not to run out of there or not (even though he would probably fall on his ass doing so) the doctor beat him to it, dashing out of the room, saying, “I’ll be right back!” before disappearing.

It was safe to say that Mike was startled. Of all the things and interactions he expected to have, that was  _ not  _ one of them. The doctor seemed like he wasn’t expecting him to be awake at all, and now he was probably going to either get more people or some doctoring tools.

He didn’t like either option. On one hand, getting more people could mean Wilford Warfstache and Darkiplier, and Mike was  _ not  _ going to be in the same room with them, no matter what. He refused. The second one, getting more doctoring tools, could mean two things at best: Dr. Iplier was genuinely going to help him, or Mike was about to be experimented on.

Whatever it was, he decided it didn’t matter. By the time Dr. Iplier came back, Mike would be long gone.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the needle embedded in his arm and ripping it out in one swift movement, gasping at the pain. He threw it to the bed, a little bit of blood dripping from the wound, but ignoring it. Mike braced himself, standing up slowly while holding onto the bed. He wobbled a bit, his muscles weak as if he hadn’t used them in a long time (who knew, maybe he hadn’t) but didn’t fall, even as he stepped forward. His bare feet were cold on the tile.

Mike stepped to the clipboard on the ground, picking it up. It took a little work without his glasses, but he could read the bold letters on the top of the page.

**_Michael Schmidt_ **

Mike blinked several time to make sure that he was reading it right. But no, that was right, a name that looked so familiar yet so foreign that he knew belonged to him. 

Michael Schmidt. When was the last time he used that name? Heard it, thought of it,  _ needed  _ it? Ever since he found himself in this whole five nights at Freddy’s bullshit, it’s just been Mike. Never anything else. Even when they called him Jeremy and Fritz, it’s always been Mike.

But no. This doctor, who tried to  _ kill  _ him no less, somehow knew his name. How is that possible?

Mike dropped the clipboard on the counter nearby, not wanting to dwell on it too much. Dr. Iplier would be back soon, and he didn’t want to be here when that happened. He looked around the room, finding a pair of sweatpants that fit him in a closet, along with a simple cotton shirt. He tore off his paper sheet he was wearing and put the items on, feeling much better with actual clothes on.

Next he managed to find his glasses, much to his own surprise. He thought they would be gone forever, but there they were, in a nice case on his bedside. They were even cleaned and everything. Mike placed them on his nose, the world becoming much more detailed once they were on. 

Mike took this moment to really take in his surroundings, the bed he was in for who knows how long, the various buttons on a little board above the bed, the music softly flowing from a speaker that he didn’t notice before, and the exits. There was the one Dr. Iplier went in and out of before on the right, but there was another one on the left. An odd sense of deja vu went through Mike at this observation, a tingly sensation covering his body.

He walked to the middle of the room, wondering which door he should go through, when he heard voices. Mike stayed dead quiet, listening to the voices and where they were coming from.

“I’m telling you, he was just… awake. Like he was never in a coma…” trailed off one voice, probably Dr. Iplier. 

“That’s rather odd. Especially after exactly five days… like he was on a timer or something,” replied another, their voice layered and slightly distorted. Ringing was faintly coming from the left hallway, where the voices were also coming from. Mike’s breathing stopped at this, realizing that that voice must belong to Dark.

Without another thought, Mike bolted out the other door, closing it behind him as silently as possible, and dashed down the hallway, into the unknown world.

  
  
  
  
  


Well fuck.

That was the only thing Dr. Iplier could think when he stepped into his clinic only for the man who had been in a coma for five days to have disappeared. Next to him, Dark’s ringing intensified when he too realized that Mike was gone.

“What the… he was just here five minutes ago,” exclaimed the doctor, walking around the room to find the signs of the security guard being here. The needle that was in his arm, the one meant to keep liquid flowing into his body, was on the bed and covered in dry blood. The sheet he had been wearing was on the floor, and after closer inspection he found that a pair of pants and a shirt were missing. Dr. Iplier even checked the glasses case that was on the table next to the bed, finding it empty.

“Shit,” the doctor mumbled under his breath. “Shit shit  _ shit.” _

“He’s gone,” Dark said plainly, but you could hear the edge in his voice. 

“Yeah. A man who just woke up from a coma, had no idea where he is or even  _ what  _ he is is running around Ego Inc,” Dr. Iplier sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t help but think back to when they found Mike five days ago, at the front door of Ego Inc and passed out in a coma. Everyone assumed he was a new Ego, seeing that he looked a lot like Mark and all, but no one could explain his appearance. Hell, the only way they knew his name was because he was wearing a name tag. They had even brought Mark himself to see if he could explain it, but he couldn’t.

“The only thing I can think of is a bunch of people took the character I played in the Five Nights at Freddy’s musical and created an Ego. But that doesn’t explain his appearance… after all, that was years ago. Why would he be here now after all this time?” the YouTuber had asked them, just as confused as they were.

No one could really explain that part. If he really was an Ego created by the fans, why did it take so long for him to show up? And in a coma no less. It didn’t make any sense, but Dr. Iplier focused on helping the man first before he went on a witch hunt, trying to figure out the key to this whole mess.

And now Mike was gone, wandering through Ego Inc.

The doctor glanced at the watch on his wrist seeing that it was about ten minutes until midnight. It was late, but if they wanted to find Mike soon, they would have to wake up everyone and get them hunting for him. It wasn’t the best option, but it was the only good one he could come up with quickly. 

He turned to Dark to suggests that they get the others, but the dark Ego beat him to it.

“We need everyone to help. Mike could kill himself if he gets into the wrong room,” Dark instructed, and the doctor nodded, the two splitting up without saying anything so that they could cover more ground. Dr. Iplier went out the right door, while Dark went out the left.

“I swear to God Mike,” the doctor whispered to himself. “If you kill yourself after all of this, I  _ will  _ find you in Hell. Then I’ll bring you back to life to kill you myself.”

  
  
  
  


 

Mike was starting to think that this was the same place where he just fought for his life for five nights, Ego Inc or whatever it was called. He found the library, clinic (separate from the one he was in) and even the generator room, even if it was much more technologically advanced than the one he remembered.

That nagging was coming back into his mind, and part of him wondered if this was another night for him to survive. Night six, if you will. Man, they always say it’s five nights, but it never is, is it? There’s always more, more death, more fear, more everything. He even trusted Alex when they said he was nearly there, but even they lied to him in the end. It never stops.

“Enough of this bullshit,” Mike said to himself, running down another hallway. There had to be an exit  _ somewhere.  _ Every building had an exit, no matter what ro where it was. Hell, he’d jump through a window if necessary. If he’s right about this being another night… he didn’t want to stay long enough to figure out what these fuckers had in store for him.

He passed the grandfather clock, not seeing that the time read 11: 54.

  
  
  
  
  


Wilford groaned as he was shook awake, swatting at the offending person. They sighed, shaking him harder as he turned over to his side.

“Wilford,” snapped Dark, grabbing the mustached Ego’s shoulder. “You need to get up. It’s Mike.”

“What about ‘em?” grumbled Wilford into the pillow, still not moving. He was stronger physically and Dark knew that, so trying moving him wouldn’t get anyone anywhere. The suited Ego sighed, composing himself.

“He’s out of whatever coma he was in, but we don’t know where he is. Dr. Iplier and I need help to find him before he does anything stupid.”

That got Wilford’s attention. He turned back over, opening his eyes sleepily. “You’re telling me you’ve already lost the one man that was on security 24/7?” he questioned, a small smile coming to his lips.

Dark scowled, ignoring the question. “Are you going to help me or not?”

The mustached Ego sat up and stretched, his joints popping and snapping from the lack of movement in his sleep. “Fine. Where do I start?”   
  
  


 

Now Mike was in a hallway he very much recognized, the one that Dark and Yandere always came from. He walked lightly and as quietly as he possibly could, not wanting to trigger any traps that might be placed through the hallway. He still couldn’t find the exit, but he was determined to do so.

He couldn’t help but examine the various pictures on the walls, filled with many people that he recognized. Dark and Wilford Warfstache both passed out on a couch, practically cuddling with each other, Yandere and Bing covered in food products, smiling widely into the camera, Bim Trimmer looking on in surprise as the others gave him a cake and a balloon, both which read  _ Happy Birthday! _

It was hard to think of these guys as killers when you looked at those pictures. You thought that they would be a giant family, with Wilford and Dark as the mom and dad or something like that. Hell, there was even a picture with two wearing shirts that  _ said  _ they were the mom and dad! What the fuck was up with this place?!

Before Mike could stop himself from looking at the pictures, there was the sound of someone opening a door from behind him. He whipped around, finding himself face to face with none other than Wilford Warfstache.

_ Oh, for fuck stake- _

Of all the doors to be in front of in this damned hallway, and he chose the one that the pink maniac would be in? Of fucking course he would have.

They stared at each other for a while, shock on both their faces as they tried to think of something to do. Wilford had circles under his eyes, and his appearance made in seem like he just got out of bed. But Mike could see both a gun and knife on his form, because Wilford Warfstache always has a gun and knife on him.

“Hey Darkling? I think I found your missing coma patient-”

And that’s all it took before Mike was sprinting down the hallway, now knowing that both the edgelord and maniac were there. The call of “wait!” came from behind him, but Mike ignored it, focused on getting as far away from this place as possible.

  
  
  
  
  


“Bim? What are you doing up at this hour?”

Bim turned from where he was watering his plants, seeing Dr. Iplier, King, the Jim’s and Bing right behind him. The show host put down his watering can , checking his watch to see that it was less than five minutes till midnight.

“Well, I, uh, couldn’t sleep. So I came down here,” Bim said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But what are all of you guys doing here?” he gestured to the other Ego’s.

Dr. Iplier opened his mouth to respond, but Bing beat him to it. “Mike’s out of his coma and is roaming Ego Inc. We have no idea where he is, and we need everyone we can to help find him.”

Bim’s eyes widened, surprised to hear that Mike was up and about, especially after being in a coma for who knows how long.

“How in the world did he just  _ disappear?”  _ the show host demanded, walking closer to the others, forgetting about watering his plants for now. Dr. Iplier just shrugged, looking a little bit embarrassed.

“I walked into the room, he was there and wake… and then I went to go get Dark. By the time I got back with Dark, he was gone,” he informed. 

Bim shook his head, mumbling to himself. “Well,” he said, looking at the others. “Looks like we’ll have to find him.”

  
  
  
  
  


Mike could hear someone down the hall. Their footsteps were heavy and rhythmic, never slowing down or speeding up, reminding him very much of Google and the way he would walk.

Before he could decide where to go, the loud chime of a grandfather clock rang in his ears, so loud it almost hurt. Mike covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut until the sound went away. It chimed exactly twelve times, no more, no less.

Night six was starting, and Google was just about to turn the corner to see him right in the middle of the hallway. 

Mike quickly looked around, seeing a small closet right behind and to the left of him. With no time to lose, he turned around, opening the closet door and shoving himself inside. He was met by many coats, shoes and thick shirts, resisting his push through, but that only made Mike push harder. The android was even closer now, and Mike would be lucky to close the door in time, but he did it anyway, leaving himself in complete darkness.

He held his breath as the walking got louder and louder, coming right in front of the closet he was in. Every muscle was tense, scenes flashing in his mind of what could happen. Google knew he was in there, about to rip the door off its hinges and strangle him, looking at him with his dead expression. Google punching his hand through the door, beating him to death without struggle. Google putting gasoline on the door, lighting it on fire and letting him burn with no place to go.

But none of those things happened. The android never stopped, walking right pass the closet like it wasn’t even there in the first place. Nevertheless, Mike stayed still and didn’t breath until he couldn’t hear Google’s footsteps anymore. When he was confident he was safe, he let out a gasp, breathing deeply.

He had to get out of this place. He was already on Wilford’s radar, and he nearly got on Google’s. Alex’s last words echoed in his head, almost taunting him in a way.  

_ I don’t have much time, you hear me? Everything’s coming to a close. You’re waking up, the Ego’s are waking up, everyone is. When that finally happens I won’t be here anymore. You have to keep going- whatever it takes. I don’t care of you have to hit Wilford in the head with a baseball bat to keep him away, just  _ **_do it._ ** _ I- fucking Jim’s! Okay, Mike, hang on. You will get help, just hang on, I promise everything will be alright. _

Mike still had so many questions for them, but no way to answer them. For whatever reason, he had the sneaking suspicion that whatever happened to Alex was because of these killers. If that was the case, he wanted to kill every single one of them with his bare hands

But he couldn’t. There were too many. He had to do what they said: survive, do whatever you have to do to survive. Then everything will be alright.

With that thought in mind, Mike left the closet, darting the opposite direction Google went.

  
  
  
  
  


All of the Ego’s met up at in the kitchen, discussing how they were going to do this without permanently scarring Mike. They needed to get him under control, but if they couldn’t get him to trust them, it would be a very long night.

“I’m telling ya, the second he saw me me he bolted,” Wilford was telling the Ego’s, most which were still rather tired and grumpy from being woken up. “What if Hosty narrates him to calm down or somethin’? Then we could calmly explain to him what’s going on and whatnot.”

Dr. Iplier shook his head. “I don’t think he’d like that very much. I know if I were in a building filled with people that I thought were going to hurt me, I wouldn’t take too kindly to them trying to control me. There has to be another way.”

Dark glanced at The Host, who was in the corner and talking under his breath, just like always. It  _ would  _ be a lot easier to get Mike to stay with his powers, but the doctor was right. They had to gain his trust somehow.

“Perhaps we should split up and look for him,” Dark suggested. “Then whoever finds him can have a one on one to try and gain his trust.”

“Before this goes any further, might I suggest that we block all exits so that Mike cannot get out of Ego Inc,” Google deadpanned. “If he finds a way out, he’ll be in a world he doesn’t understand or know.”

Dark nodded, a plan forming in his head. “Google and Bing, find all exits and block them somehow, I don’t really care how, just do it. Yan, King, you’ll both comb the whole building to fine Mike. If you do, find one of us so that we can talk to him. The Dr. Iplier and Jim’s, go through the clinic and broadcasting room, Wilford and Bim, check the garden and library. I’ll get everything else, got it?”

All of the Ego’s nodded, accepting their roles easily. They all knew it was the best thing they had.

With that, all of the Ego’s scattered, off to find the one that thought they were evil.

 

  
  
  
Mike ran into Yandere first. 

He was actually surprised that he made it as long as he did without running into anyone. It was one o’clock the last time he checked, and he was going through the hallway he knew was opposite of the one he was in when he found Wilford, when Yandere came sprinting down. The man instantly grabbed a small table with some picture on it and threw it at the red head, who yelped and skitted to a stop. He took the moment to exit the hallway, going around a corner and press his back against the wall.

He could hear Yandere’s noises of frustration, picking up the desk. “Man, now we’ll need new frames,” he mumbled, heading the other direction as quickly as he came. It slightly surprised Mike, thinking that the other would run after him, but he didn’t dwell on the reasoning.

The grandfather clock rang twice, signaling that it was two am. The hours went a lot slower than than usual, or maybe he just had too much adrenaline going through his veins.

Mike walked further away from the hallway, finding himself at a very decorated door with light bulbs around its edges. He cautiously cracked it open, freezing when he heard voices on the other side.

“Doctor Jim, Coma Jim is not in the rafters like we suspected!” came a rather cheery voice. Mike’s attention was sucked in at the name  _ Jim,  _ the memory of Alex’s last words coming to mind.

_ No… stop! … Jim’s… dammit all… Mike! _

This guy was the one that stopped Alex from finishing their message. A spark of anger went through him, but he stopped himself from flat out jumping out and killing the dude. He had no idea what this guy was capable of.

Another person sighed. “Thank you both for looking, at least,” came the voice of Dr. Iplier, someone Mike recognized all too well. What was he doing here with Jim, anyway? And why did he make it sound like there was more than one of this guy?

“Doctor Jim! Someone is opening the door!” called out Jim, and instantly Mike let go of the door, which slammed shut even though it couldn't have been opened by more than an inch. 

Dr. Iplier called out something he didn’t catch, but he didn’t wait to figure it out. He dashed to the left, which he believed is where the library was. There had to be a good place to hide there, right?

He ran into the library, immediately surrounded by high bookshelves with hundreds of books. There was a nice couch and plush chairs, and as much as Mike wanted to sit down, he couldn’t. Relaxing seemed impossible.

It didn’t help that The Host was sitting in one of those said chairs.

The blind man turned around, staring at Mike with his unseeing gaze, for once no words coming from under his breath. “Mike enters the library to find The Host, who says that he means no harm to Mike,” came flying from his mouth. Mike stood, there, confused on what the fuck that was. It was almost as if he was…  _ narrating  _ his own actions, along with the people around him.

“Like I’ll believe that shit,” spat out Mike, walking backwards. The Host stood up, but didn’t walk to him like Mike thought he would.

“The Host tells the truth. We just want to help Mike, we mean no harm,” he said, which in turn just made Mike even  _ more  _ confused.

“Who the fuck is  _ we?”  _ he demanded.

“The Ego’s,” was The Host’s simple reply, one which had Mike thinking back to Alex’s message.

_ You’re waking up, the Ego’s are waking up, everyone is. When that finally happens I won’t be here anymore. You have to keep going- whatever it takes. _

Alex mentioned the Ego’s before. Is this what she meant? Were these guys really on his side? Then why had he been fighting them for the past five nights?

No, he couldn’t trust them, especially The Host. They were all just lier’s that wanted his head on a silver platter.

The grandfather clock rang again, three times this time. He was halfway through the night, survive three more hours and none of them could ever hurt him again.

“I don’t think so,” Mike said, running out of the library and away from The Host, who didn’t even try to run after him.

  
  
  
  
  


Bim and Wilford went through the garden for what felt like the thousandth time, searching every nook and cranny for Mike. Bim finally sighed, rubbing at his eyes, which kept dropping and watering, itching for sleep. It was passed 3 am now, and no one had successfully found Mike and talked to him without running away. At this point they might as well all pull an all nighter. 

“What if he’s already gone?” Bim asked, stumbling to keep up with Wilford, who seemed to have tank full of energy despite only having like 2 hours of sleep at best. He always did, didn’t he?

“He’s not,” Wilford replied firmly, looking under a table. “I can tell.”

The show host didn’t question the mustached Ego’s reasoning. He  _ did  _ have a knack for the supernatural after all. Maybe he knew Mike’s energy or some shit like that.

Bim yawned again. He was really tempted to curl up right now and fall asleep, but the thought of Mike around here somewhere, alone and confused… it kept him going.

Just as Bim was about to ask Wilford another question, the door to the garden  _ banged!  _ Open, and the man of the night himself walked in, panting for breath and pale. Wilford stood up, barely looking at the man before running over. Mike panicked, stumbling back, but Wilford caught his arm.

“Geez, looks like you just ran a marathon or somethin’!” he exclaimed, patting Mike’s back in what was supposed to be a soothing manner. The man tensed, looking at Wilford as if death themselves had come to take him.

“Wilford, maybe you should just stand back a little bit,” Bim said calmly, stepping forward slowly. Mike’s eyes instantly looked to his, brown and fierce with survival and fear. He reminded Bim of a wild animal put into a cage with no way to get out.

“Oh, there’s no need for that! It’s not like I’m going to kill him or anything,” said Wilford, laughing at his own bad joke. It was clear to anyone that those were the wrong words to say, because Mike tensed even more, hands twitching. His eyes were still glued to Bim, a question in his eyes. The show host smiled, hoping to come off friendly and harmless, but he honestly didn’t know how well that worked out. He was an actor, sure, but only in the moment when he was in front of the cameras. The second he got off stage, all of his confidence and swagger disappears like it was never there in the first place.

What happened next was so fast that Bim almost didn’t catch it. Within a split second Mike had grabbed Wilford’s gun, which was right on his hip in its holster, and hit the back of the mustached Ego’s head with the guns butt. Wilford crumbled to the ground, not another word or movement coming from him.

Bim’s eyes widened in shock, mouth opening. He stared at Wilford, probably one of the most powerful Ego’s, replaying just how easily he was brought down with his own  _ gun.  _ That’s never  _ ever  _ happened before.

Something clicked in front of him. The show host shakily and slowly looked up, being met with a barrel right between his eyes, the metal polished and gleaming. 

Holding the gun, was Mike.

“If you move, scream, or try to get away, I’ll put a bullet in your head, got it?” snapped the security guard, pressing the barrel to Bim’s forehead. Bim nodded furiously, tears already trying to burn behind his eyes. Sure, he’s been on the wrong end of a gun many of times, but this was different. This made him fear for his life.

“Good.” Mike forcefully turned the show host around, grabbing both of his hands in an iron grip that made it impossible to move them. “Now, you’re going to show me how to get out of here. If you intentionally bring me to your friends or try to escape, I shoot. Are we clear?” Mike said right by his ear, voice low and threatening.

Bim nodded again, a tear slipping passed his eyes.

“Good.” He shoved Bim forward, leading him out of the garden just as the grandfather clock told the world it was now four a.m. “Now show me how to get out of here.”

  
  
  
  
  


In hindsight, capturing and bringing another person with him probably wasn’t the best idea. Now he had to keep track of a whole nother person he knew next to nothing about while trying to go undetected. 

It didn’t help that the gun felt oddly heavy in his hands, still pressing the barrel against the back of Bim’s head to let him know he still had it. The show host’s hands trembled in his grip, from fear more than likely, but he didn’t lead up. He needed a way out of here, and it seemed the only way that was going to happen was this.

Bim lead him to what Mike assumed were the front doors, but instantly got out of sight of them once he saw Bing hanging out by them.

“I thought I told you to not go to your friends,” Mike hissed in Bim’s ear, pressing the gun harder against his skull. 

Bim whimpered, cringing away from the gun. “I didn’t know he would be here! He and Google were supposed to secure all exits so that…” he trailed off.

“So that  _ what.” _

Bim gulped. “So that… you couldn’t get out. We didn’t want you to enter a world you know nothing about without talking to us first, to show we mean no harm. And we don’t mean  _ any  _ harm to you Mike, I promise! We just want to help. We’ve wanted to help ever since we found you in a coma 5 days ago.”

Bim’s voice was getting louder now, and he shushed him. “Quite down, Bim.”

The show host froze, all trembling momentarily stopped. “How do you… know my name? I never told you, at least, I don’t think I have…”

Mike scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. I know your little tricks you’re trying to pull on me, and it won’t work. Alex told me, you know the one those Jim’s killed?” Mike didn’t know where all of this was coming from, but it felt good to get it off his chest. He’s been angry ever since that damn phone call.

Bim shook his head. “Who’s Alex? I don’t-”

Mike covered Bim’s mouth with his hand, hearing someone else coming down the hallway opposite to them. He practically dragged him away, finding another closet similar to the one he was in before, shoving both of them in and closing the door. It was tight and awkward, the show host pressed face first into a wall while Mike was still holding him from behind, gun forced sideways away from Bim’s head. It was hard to breath when you were surrounded by coats, Mike found, trying to move his head.

The person that Mike had heard walked passed the closet, saying something he couldn’t decipher. After a few minutes, once the footsteps were gone and Mike was sure they were safe, opened the closet door and stepped out, Bim in front of him.

The door that was previously guarded by Bing was now left unattended, leaving a clear exit with no one stopped him. Mike dashed to the door with Bim, attempting to open it only for it not to budge. He pushed harder, but was met with the same result.

“Why won’t you open?” Mike said to himself, hitting his fist on the wall. He was probably making more noise than he should be, but he hardly cared about that right now. His one chance to get out of here was stopped, and now he was trapped.

Bim grunted, and looking down at where Mike was holding him, it was easy to see why. The beginnings of dark bruises were dotting the show hosts wrists, and Mike’s anger wasn’t helping. He actually felt kind of bad, seeing the tear streaks down the others face. He slightly loosened his grip, and Bim looked up at him, seemingly confused on why.

The grandfather clock chimed five times.

It was five a.m. He had one more hour to go before night six was over.

Mike tugged on Bim’s wrists, gently this time, mumbling “let’s go,” and went down the other hallway they didn’t come from.

  
  
  
  
  


“Wilford’s out cold in the garden, and I couldn’t find Bim,” informed Yandere to Dark. The suited Ego looked like he was ready to explode, aura ringing sharply and the colors bending and twisting.

“What do you mean  _ Wilford’s out cold and you couldn’t find Bim?” _

Yandere fiddled with the ends of his skirt, looking like a caged animal. “I mean Wilford is passed out on the ground with a giant lump on his head and Bim had basically disappeared.”

“Is there anything else?” Dark growled. It was five am at this point, and frankly he was getting tired of this shit. The rest of the Ego’s around him were as well, but they couldn’t while Mike was still out there.

“Yes, actually. Wilford’s gun was gone,” the red head sheepishly added.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Dark hit himself in the face. Now there was the possibility that Mike kidnapped Bim  _ and  _ took Wilford’s gun. This was just  _ great. _

Just as the dark Ego was about to give some instructions, both Jim’s came flying in. “Dark Jim!” Reporter Jim yelled out. “Coma Jim and Bim Jim are the the medical place where he slept!”

Dark sighed, snapping his neck back into place. “Well, team. It seems we’ve found this sonofabitch after all. Let’s go.”

  
  
  
  
  


“Why are we here?” whispered Bim, afraid to speak too loudly. The gun wasn’t pressed into his skull anymore, but he was still wary of it. He’s never really like the weapon, especially since it was usually in the hands of a dead accurate madman, but now he didn’t know what to expect. Mike could be an expert, he could have never seen a gun until now, he didn’t know.

“I… I don’t know,” Mike said, running his fingers over the counters in the room. It was the same place Mike stayed while he was in that coma, the same place Bim had visited.

Before anything else could happen, the left door slammed open, revealing Dark and at least three other Ego’s that the show host couldn’t make out. In a flash Mike let go of his wrists, which cried in relief, before the air was knocked out of him as the man put his left arm over his chest and pulled him back so he was pressed against Mike’s chest. His right hand, the one with the gun in it, was pointed at the door with the Ego’s.

“M-Mike! Don’t shoot, please, don’t shoot!” Bim begged with what little air he could get back into his lungs. The arm across his chest got tighter.

Dark slowly raised his hands, walking forward. “Mike, look, we’re trying to help you. Put the gun down, let got of Bim, and we can talk. My name is-”

“I know what your fucking name is,” Mike snapped. “Darkiplier. Eyeliner Edgelord 69, whichever you prefer. And I’d rather not trust someone who’s tried to kill me on multiple occasions these past nights.”

Dark raised an eyebrow, just as confused as everyone else. What in the world did Mike mean when he said that? None of them had ever tried to kill him.

“I don’t know what your talking about. You’ve been in a coma for the past five days and we’ve tried to do nothing but help. We never tried to kill you,” Dark took another step closer, but froze when Mike suddenly changed the gun to be pointing at Bim.

“Don’t move you piece of shit! You do and I shoot Bim right here, right now!”

Bim’s golden eyes went to the size of dinner plates, his entire form trembling. In the distance, the faintest sounds of the grandfather clock chiming came to Mike’s ears, making him laugh. “See! I survived all six of your stupid fucking nights! You can’t hurt me!”

Bim felt realization hit him in the throat like a bullet. Oh, if that’s what Mike thought happened-

And then the man’s muscles went limp, and Mike fell to the floor in a heap. The gun clattered to the ground, and Bim was dragged down with him. The show host struggled to get out of the mass of limbs trying to hold him down, a cold hand grabbing his bruised wrist and lifting him up easily. Bim yelped quietly as he fully stood up. Dark was the one that helped him up, his hand now gently circling Bim’s wrist, which he now noticed were bruised.

“Did he do this?” Dark asked, looking at the man on the floor, passed out.

“Yes, but what-”

“That would be me,” Dr. Iplier interrupted from behind. Bim looked over his shoulder, seeing the doctor with an empty syringe in his hands, and a small trickle of blood on Mike’s neck.

Dr. Iplier looked the others in the eye, and said, “well everyone. We have a mystery to decipher: who is Michael Schmidt?”      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_A;ex


	8. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Thank you to those who enjoyed and commented. More will be heading your way soon!

Mike’s consciousness came back to him slowly, going in and out of what he assumed was some sort of sleep. But everytime he tried to get up, something dragged him back down, telling him it wasn’t time yet. Surprisingly, Mike submitted to the call, feeling more relaxed and safe than he’s felt in… weeks? Years? Centuries? Who really knew.

However, despite the lovely feeling, he still wanted to get up, to see the world around him. What would it be like to never have to worry about someone trying to kill you every night? For no more ghosts to haunt you or beg for your help? What would it be like to just have… a normal life?

He wanted to know. Maybe that’s why the force dragging him back down into sleep finally let go, shrugged it’s shoulders and said, “fine. Have a look around.”

The lights were what he noticed first. They were much gentler than they were before, his eyes not burning at the sight of them. The second thing he noticed was that his arms were pinned to his sides, though is was weird, it wasn’t uncomfortable. He couldn’t even find it within himself to be angry or scared about it.

“You’re awake?”

Mike lazily turned his head, which felt rather heavy for whatever reason. He must have been laying down or something, because the person he saw next to him was sideways, features twisted into what he assumed was concern. Their eyes were pretty cool, a golden color that glittered under the light, but they were partially hidden behind a pair of glasses.

There was also that sense that he knew this person, but that memory was just out of reach.

“Hi,” was the only thing Mike could croak out, but he smiled at the end of it. Did he look stoned?  _ Was  _ he stoned? He’s never been stoned before, but he recalls someone in highschool saying this is what it was like.

“Is this Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza?” Mike couldn’t help but blurt out. He needed to make sure, even if he was positive it was all over. Someone told him that, but like many things at the moment, he couldn’t really remember. 

The person laughed. It was a pleasant sound, he decided.

“No, this is Ego Inc. Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

Mike furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think about last night as this guy had put it. Wasn’t last night the 6th night at that place with all of the killers? Sure it didn’t exactly narrow it down by any chance, but he knew what he meant. 

“Kinda,” he told the person. “Last night was the 6th night. Alex said after that I would be safe with the ‘Ego’s’ or somethin.’” 

“Well, that’s us. Do you remember my name?” asked the person, smiling at him. Mike scrunched up his face, desperately trying to remember this person’s name. It was on the tip of his tongue, but there was nothing. Mike shook his head, frustrated with himself now.

“I’m Bim Trimmer-” and that was all it took before the memory came flooding back to him.

“You’re the dude that likes the flowers,” Mike interrupted, the image if Bim watering the flowers and smiling into the camera popping into his mind. “You told me that Bing was coming and to check up on Yandere.”

Bim nodded, and said his next words carefully. “Did you spend five nights in a building with people named Dark or Wilford?”

Mike nodded furiously, it all coming back to him in a flash. “Yeah. Dark always came to my left door and stayed in the shadows 24/7 like a supreme edgelord. He ringed a lot and made the left half of my room grey. Wilford was basically a toddler that constantly needed attention. I’m pretty sure he was flirting with me, though.”

Bim laughed again, more heartily this time. “Yes, that sounds like them.”

“They’re  _ here?”  _ Mike questioned, suddenly not feeling as safe as before. The restraints keeping him down were now pressed uncomfortably into his skin.

The show host- yes, that’s what he was- raised his hand and put it on Mike’s shoulder as if to try and calm him down.

“Yes they are, but look at me Mike. Those five nights you remember happening, with me Dark and the others- it never happened. You were in a coma for five days, and in that time we believe you dreamed the whole thing. Do you understand me?”

Mike nodded slowly. All of it was a dream? All of his suffering and push to survive never even happened? If that was a dream, what about everything else? Afton, Baby, those kids- were they fake too? They couldn’t have been. And if they were? Then where has he been for so long, trapped in a hospital, nightmare’s consuming his mind for so long?

“What am I?” Mike wondered allowed, voice in a near whisper. Bim’s hand on his shoulder squeezed comfortingly. 

“What are you? Well, you’re an Ego too. And now, you’re home.”

  
  
  
  
  


The next week had to be the weirdest experience of Mike’s life, even with everything he’s seen and done. He met everyone in Ego Inc, properly met I mean. He found out that while some of them  _ were  _ killers (mainly Wilford and The Host) they didn’t want to kill him. He was still skittish around them for the most part, given that his brain still thought the past few days actually happened, but Bim was the exception. He couldn’t really explain why.

Being and ‘Ego’ or whatever took some time for his brain to wrap around. Apparently he was created in part by this guy named Mark, who also went by ‘Markiplier’ and his fans made fanart of him and made him into an actual character. He actually met Mark, who seemed like an all around nice guy, and that was also the day Mike found out he looked  _ exactly  _ like this guy.

Mark’s expression when he first saw Mike was rather funny to be honest. The other did a double take and exclaimed, “I’ve found my doppelganger!”

Dark, who was with him at the time, just simply rolled his eyes. “We’re  _ all  _ your doppelgangers, Mark.”

Mark just shook his head, mumbling to himself. Later when Mike finally looked into a mirror for the first time in ages, he found that indeed, he and Mark look a lot alike. Besides the fact that Mike’s hair was a little longer in the back and waiver, they could pass as twins if they really wanted to.

But the weirdest thing… was finding out about  _ the game.  _ Or, more accurately, the  _ games. _

The Five Nights at Freddy’s games. The games, as he found out later, that made Markiplier explode on his platform that he worked on.

The games that he came from.

Bim was the one to tell him about it. Mike had asked how the fans knew about him, and how exactly he was ‘created,’ then Bim showed him the videos. At first, Mike refused to watch, too afraid that he would get sucked back into that world again, and even Dr. Iplier said he probably shouldn’t. But curiosity was strong with Mike, and at night when no one was around he found himself watching the videos.

There were so many. So many games, so many episodes, so much of Mark screaming and dying because he forgot about a door or an animatronic. Mike recognize each location and the visions without fail, and even watched the ‘theories’ on the games.

Games. That’s all this was to every person that played or watched. Games.

Not Mike’s Hell that he’s been living through all this time. Not the horror and death the he knew it as. Just a simple, god damn  _ game.  _ And not only that, it made his creator  _ famous  _ beyond comprehension. Each video had millions upon millions of views, not one person stopping to think that this could be real. And why would they? It’s only a game.

Once he got to the fourth game, the one with the so called ‘Nightmare’ animatronics, Mike had to stop watching. He couldn’t watch the child being killed by that Fredbear suit again, couldn’t watch as a ghost promised to put the child back together. He just  _ couldn’t. _

Instead, he lived his new life. Sure, it was hard to get used to, and he really didn’t understand everything yet, but he was ready to control what he did on a day to day basis. He was ready to experience what he missed all of this time. Make friends, fall in love, cry, laugh, everything.

So that’s exactly what Mike did. His new family was weird, sure, but it was the best family he’s ever had.

And who knew, maybe one day he’ll be able to forget it all. Maybe one day, he’ll be at peace at what’s happened to him. But for now, he wasn’t, and for now, it would haunt him. Ghosts never knew when to move one, did they?

They never did. But he will.    __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


End file.
